Splitrock Trickle
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My Poetry

Work

2/21/2020

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Cracked mirror and my
Refracted reflection,
My broken face cracking
A crooked smile
A tired morning smile


I see my father’s eyes
And my mother’s mouth
And a hairline of receding troops
That lost the battle
Gave up the fight

​It’s another day
Punch in punch out
Again, again and again
Gotta make a dollar
To buy a new mirror.
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jtaitslick@yahoo.com
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